


77 Birthdays

by bucknastybarnes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky - Freeform, Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Fluff, Bucky Barnes one-shot, Bucky Barnes oneshot, Bucky barnes x reader - Freeform, Bucky oneshot, Bucky x Reader, Bucky x You - Freeform, Captain America - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, James Barnes - Freeform, James Buchanan Barnes - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, Smut, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, bucky barnes fanficiton, bucky barnes fic, bucky barnes imagine, bucky barnes series, bucky barnes smut, bucky barnes x you - Freeform, bucky one-shot, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 04:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucknastybarnes/pseuds/bucknastybarnes
Summary: you decide to make up for some of Bucky's missed birthdays in the sweetest ways possible.





	1. 77 Birthdays [1/3]

**Author's Note:**

> this is a 3 part series- part 2 will include sexual content. 18+ only.  
my work is not to be reposted anywhere without my permission. my tumblr is bucknasty-barnes.

Ham and cheese omelet. Slices of bacon- thick cut, slightly crispy. Coffee- two cream, two sugars.

All of the things you had learned were Bucky’s favorite breakfast foods.

You carried the wooden tray to his bedroom, knocking softly on his door with your free hand and silently hoping that he was awake so that you wouldn’t disturb him from sleep. You knew how difficult it could be for him to come by.

A moment passed and you heard the rustling of sheets and the creak of his bed frame.

Damn it.

He opened the door, sleep still in his sapphire eyes and tendrils of dark hair framing his face from where it fell from a tousled bun.

“Hey, darlin’," he greeted with a soft smile that quickly transitioned into a yawn.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, but I’m hoping this is even better than sleep.”

“What’s this all about?” he grinned, flashing his dazzling smile and opening the door to allow you inside.

You bounded in, hoping on his bed and passing the tray off to him as he joined you.

“Happy birthday, Bucky.”

“It’s.. not my birthday, doll,” his words were delicate, as to not embarrass you.

“I know," you shrugged, grabbing a piece of bacon off the tray. “Your birthday is in exactly 77 days.”

He looked at you like you were crazy, but you could see admiration underneath the confusion.

“Not that I’m complaining about the delicious breakfast in bed, but why are we celebrating now?” he said through a mouthful of omelet.

“When was the last time you celebrated a birthday?”

“1942,” he answered without thinking.

“So, correct me if my math is wrong, but I think that means that the last time you celebrated a birthday, you turned 25?”

The confusion on his face only became more evident. “That would be correct..”

“Then consider today your 26th birthday. And tomorrow we’ll celebrate you turning 27, and the next day 28, and the next 29.. and 77 days from now, on the actual anniversary of your birth, we will celebrate you turning 102.”

Confusion was quickly replaced with amusement and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Did you know that you’re the most thoughtful person I’ve ever known?” he beamed at you.

“Yes," you popped another piece of bacon into your mouth and jumped up from the bed.

“Now eat and get dressed. I have a whole day planned.”

————

The fact that Bucky allowed you to blindfold him on the way to your destination spoke volumes about your friendship.

“Do you trust me?” You held out the yellow bandanna.

“With my life," he assured you, allowing you to tie the cloth over his eyes from where you sat in the car.

“But you better not be taking me to the beach. Not only is it cold outside, but there’s still sand in my left arm from when Stark made everyone go for Peter’s birthday back in the summer.” You glanced over to see him smirking at the memory.

You wondered if he was thinking about how that day had been a turning point for your friendship.

He had only been at the tower for a couple of weeks. The two of you hadn’t talked very much, except for during training sessions or to say a quick “good morning”.

You could talk to anyone. Any day, anytime. Your mother had always called you an open book. You had never met a stranger.

Until you met Bucky.

The first time you met Bucky, you were shit-faced. It didn’t help that he looked like every beautiful thing you’d ever seen combined into one person.

You, Sam, Wanda and Clint had earlier returned from a mission that hadn’t gone as planned. It wasn’t your fault- there was no way you or the others could have known you were walking into an ambush. But still, unsuccessful missions weren’t something you took well. You were sulking and decided to raid Tony’s liquor cabinet.

After several shots of tequila, you developed a hankering for a bowl of cereal and stumbled through the hallways.

As you were approaching the kitchen, the elevator opened and Steve stepped out with a man who looked familiar, though you couldn’t put a name to his face in your inebriated state.

Steve greeted you, calling your name. “Come here, I want to introduce you to someone.” You slowly walked over to them, praying that you wouldn’t fall over.

“This is Bucky,” he motioned towards the man. “My childhood best friend. He’s going to be staying with us here at the tower.” Despite how drunk you were, you could hear the admiration in Steve’s voice for his friend.

And, despite how drunk you were (or maybe because of how drunk you were), you couldn’t help but be completely awestruck at how beautiful the man was in person. You had seen pictures, on the news and in museums, but they did no justice.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucket," you lazily slurred the words together, and Steve’s expression grew puzzled.

“Y/N, are you-“

You took a step closer to Bucky and looked him dead in the eye. His form went rigid and his gaze flashed towards Steve.

“Your eyes..” You trailed off, studying his face.

“You could seduce a priest with your eyes.” Then without missing a beat, you looked at Steve again.

“Will you please excuse me? I think I am going to throw up.” You turned to sprint to the bathroom, but immediately projectile vomited as soon as you were facing the other direction.

You didn’t noticed that Steve had gathered your hair in his hands until you had finished emptying the contents of your stomach onto the hallway floor.

Using the sleeve of your hoodie, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and said, “Welcome home, Bucky.”

Of course, when you woke up the next morning and slowly recalled the events of that night, you groaned in embarrassment at the thought of ever seeing Bucky again, but you knew that you probably made him uncomfortable and wanted to apologize.

You stood outside his door- his door that was coincidentally directly across from yours- and stared at your outstretched hand that was a mere inch away from knocking for a solid thirty seconds before working up the courage to give it a light tap.

Maybe he won’t be here. Maybe he’ll be asleep. Maybe he’ll be pooping-

He opened the door and all coherent thoughts left your mind at the realization that you had definitely not just thought he was beautiful because you had been drunk.

From his electric blue eyes, dark hair that hung to his shoulders, chiseled jaw and plump, pink lips.. you found him every bit as beautiful when you were sober but unlike the night before, it now left you at a loss for words.

He furrowed his brows at you and you realized you were just staring at him blankly.

“I wanted to apologize for last night.” You blurted out before another second of silence could pass.

“I don’t normally drink that much..” You sighed. “I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, and also that you had to watch me puke..” Your gaze fell to the floor and your hands suddenly became alien objects that you didn’t know what to do with.

“Don’t be sorry.” He laughed softly and you looked up at him through your lashes. “It was quite the greeting.”

Despite Bucky assuring you that it was okay, you were still overcome with a wave of embarrassment every time you saw him. So the next few weeks passed with minimal conversation between the two of you- until the day that Tony had arranged for everyone to go to the beach for Peter’s birthday.

Everyone had gathered in the garage, dividing up into different vehicles and loading folding chairs and umbrellas into the trunks.

Everyone except for Bucky. You tried to ignore the disappointment you felt in regards to him not coming- it’s not like you would have spoken to each other very much anyway, you reminded yourself.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “Mind running upstairs and telling Buck we are about to head out?” His request took you off guard. You nodded, quickly turning before he could notice the blush that you were sure had spread across your cheeks.

After you knocked, his voice sounded from behind the door before he had even opened it.

“Steve, I told you, I’m not comfortable with people gawking at my-“ He froze when he saw that it was you and not Steve.

“At your arm?” You finished, unsure of where you were gathering the courage to voice your assumption.

He nodded. “There’s a lot of scarring, and people don’t really know how to react to the metal..”

“Can I show you something?” Another nod.

You carefully untied the front of your lavender swimsuit coverup and slid it off your shoulders, leaving you in only the black two-piece bikini that you wore underneath. You had never felt more vulnerable and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Bucky’s eyes.

You pulled your hair to the side, exposing your back and the scarring that littered across your shoulders and down your spine.

“A few years ago, when I first joined the team, we invaded an underground Hydra facility in Austin. I was stupid, inexperienced.. got myself captured. I was held prisoner for three days before Steve and Nat found me.” You summarized quickly.

“The guards in charge of watching me got off on whipping me every time I mouthed off to them.” You pulled the silky fabric back over your shoulders and looked at Bucky nervously, terrified that you had revealed too much.

His eyes were wide with horror, his lips hanging open slightly but no words coming out.

“I spent years hating these scars. I always made sure my clothing covered them, never went swimming, and I sure as hell didn’t have sex with anyone-“ You backtracked when you realized what you had confessed.

“Anyway, I eventually got tired of them holding me back. They’re a part of my story, and even though it’s a fucked up part, it’s still a part that has made me who I am.”

You were suddenly filled a newfound, liberating courage.

“If you aren’t ready to bare your scars in front of people, no one will make you. But I promise you, you will feel so much more free once you no longer allow them to have power over you. So should I let Steve know that you’re coming or not?” You crossed your arms in front of you.

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“You know, when you’re not drunk, you’re rather eloquently spoken.” A small grin spread across his face.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

————

Just a few short months later, and here you were. Helping the infamous Winter Soldier walk through a parking lot blindfolded as he nagged you about how he’s going to trip on something.

“Can I please just take this thing off?” He asked impatiently.

“No!” You smacked his hand away from the fabric. “Just a few more minutes.”

After walking several hundred more feet, you stopped, stepping in front of him.

Gently raising the bandanna from his eyes, you told him to take a look around.

His mouth hung wide open in surprise.

You knew he had been here dozens of times, but not in decades. And certainly not like this.

“How did you do this?” He looked at you in amazement.

“Tony called in a favor for me.” You shrugged.

“A favor? Doll, we have all of Coney Island to ourselves!” He exclaimed as he looked around in childlike wonder. “The amusement park isn’t even open this time of year.” He was glowing.

“It is today, for you, on your 26th birthday.”

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” He murmured. “Can we ride the Cyclone?”

“It’s your birthday, Bucky. We can do whatever you want.”

————

Whatever Bucky wanted consisted of riding the Cyclone 10 times in a row, winning you multiple stuffed animals from game booths, and the two of you having your own hotdog eating contest which he destroyed you in.

At the end of the day, as the sun was starting to set, he recommended taking a ride on the Wonder Wheel.

The wheel came to a stop as your cart reached the top and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you watched the sun set across the ocean.

His arm wrapped around your shoulder and you instinctively leaned into the embrace, leaning your head against his chest.

These kind of touches weren’t out of the usual for the two of you. Soft, sweet, special. Intimate, but never crossing any line. Never crossing that line. Never crossing the line that you had so desperately wanted to cross ever since the night that you drunkenly puked in front of him just moments after meeting him.

“You know,” He spoke when the sky was almost completely dark. “I would go through all of it again.” He paused and you tilted your head to look up at him from where you rested against his chest.

“If I knew that after every horrible thing I’ve been through, after every terrible thing I had to do, that it meant getting to be here with you..” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Every sleepless night, every nightmare, every panic attack, every flashback, every time being frozen in a cryogenic chamber.. I would do it again. In a heartbeat, to be here with you. To even know you.”

He looked down at you and the only thing you saw in his eyes was love and sincerity.

There were no words that could convey the way his revelation made your heart soar so you did the only rational thing you could do, and you crossed the line.

But it didn’t feel like crossing a line at all.

The way your fingers entwined in his soft hair and pulled his face impossibly closer into yours. The way his tongue swept across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. The way that the kiss started off slow and sweet and quickly transitioned into something entirely new; something passionate and so needy.

The way that your teeth clashed together and how he never broke the kiss as gracefully pulled you into his lap despite the fact that you were seated at the top of a Ferris wheel.

The way that his hands moved from your back and gradually down your waist before settling on your hips sent electricity throughout every fiber of your being and lit your skin on the most delicious kind of fire that had you moaning into his mouth.

It felt like two people being together after a whole lifetime of having to be apart.

You took his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled it as the two of you finally separated, both panting for air.

You remained in his lap, your hands cupping his face and his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you as close to him as you could be.

“And just think, tomorrow is your birthday all over again.”


	2. 77 Birthdays [2/3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another one of Bucky's missed birthday celebrations! this is pretty much just smut. 18 plus only!

the next day- Bucky's "27th" birthday

You knew that you wouldn’t be able to fill all of Bucky’s 77 missed birthdays with surprises as extravagant as days spent in Coney Island closed to the public.

Some days you would be on missions, some days he would be on missions, and on those days the two of you may not see each other but for a moment or even at all.

You checked your phone for the twentieth time and realized that today may be one of those days.

11:36 p.m

You weren’t surprised. Steve, Sam and Bucky had left early in the morning before anyone else was awake to go on a recon mission in Rhode Island and weren’t expected to be home until late. Still, you had hoped he would make it home before midnight.

You asked FRIDAY to inform you as soon as the boys returned and typed a quick text to Bucky, telling him come by your room whenever he got in.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, you looked around the room, making sure everything was exactly the way you wanted it to be.

Your lights had been dimmed to a low, cozy orange glow and dozens of small tea light candles illuminated from nearly every flat surface your room had available. Soft jazz music streamed from the record player that Tony had gifted you last Christmas and the divine smell of lavender and bergamot radiated from an essential oil diffuser, creating a heavenly atmosphere.

You thought that everything was perfect but hoped that it wasn’t too much. Originally, you had planned for the second day of his birthday celebrations to be something simple after a whole day spent at an amusement park- something small, like homemade banana bread or chocolate pecan pie. Maybe a cheesecake. Something edible.

Definitely not an intimate massage.

It had been over 24 hours since your lips had made contact and you hadn’t once stopped craving the sensation of his tongue against yours as it fought for dominance, the way your hands fisted tightly into his hair, the way that his hands trailed delicately down your back until resting where they gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him.

After that first, long awaited kiss on the Ferris wheel yesterday (and the kisses on the elevator ride up to your floor, and the kisses outside your door before you reluctantly said goodnight), you wanted nothing more than to have any excuse to be touching him in any way, shape, or form.

You had no doubt that he would be tired after a long day of being away on a mission while simultaneously having to deal with Sam, and you thought that a massage would be far better than a dessert.

FRIDAY’s voice startled you from your train of thought, letting you know that the boys had made it home. You assumed that they would probably have to stop by the med bay as well as have a debriefing before being able to call it a night, so you took a few moments picking out something to wear.

Something sexy, but not something that quite screams rip my clothes off and fuck me into the mattress.

Before you could come to a decision, there was a soft knock on your door.

“You in there, doll?” Bucky’s low voice sounded from behind the wall.

Guess you would be wearing the silky, black floral robe you were in.

You opened the door to find that he was still in his tactical gear, blood dried across his brow.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” You immediately cupped his face in your hands, his not hesitating to caress your waist.

“I am now,” his lips were inches from yours as he softly pushed you backwards into your room, closing the door behind him.

“Shouldn’t you go get that looked at?” You looked up at the cut on his forehead.

“It’ll be healed by morning,” he assured you. “I couldn’t take a chance on missing my birthday surprise, now could I?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes as you pulled away from him, walking over to where you had left your phone on the nightstand.

“11:53. Made it with seven minutes to spare.”

He was looking around the room in awe, taking in everything that you had set up.

“You must know that I’m already yours, baby. If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask,” he walked towards you slowly with a teasing look on his face. “Though this romantic ambiance is a very nice touch.”

Before you could respond, his hands were gripping the back of your thighs and picking you up so that your legs were wrapped around his midsection, his arms resting under your ass.

“You’re a dork,” you said in between a fit of giggles. “Get your head out of the gutter, Barnes. I’m just giving you a massage.” You kissed the tip of his nose.

“You’re a dream come true,” he marveled, gently plopping you down onto the mattress.

“I know it. Shirt off, lay on your stomach," you instructed, grabbing the rose scented massage oil from your bedside table.

He didn’t object, removing his tactical vest and swiftly pulling his gray t-shirt over his head. Your eyes immediately traveled to his defined chest and the distinct v of his hips and you had to bite back a moan at the prospect that this flawless person saw something in you.

He was in your room after an exhausting day, trusting you to touch him and bring him pleasure in a way that he didn’t anyone else.

That alone was enough to have you clenching your thighs together in want.

After he made himself comfortable laying on his stomach, you crawled onto him, straddling his lower back.

You tried to focus on warming the massage oil in your hands and not the fact that because you were wearing a rob, the only thing separating the most intimate part of your body from the skin of his back was the thin lace fabric of your red panties.

You began working your hands over the muscles in his back, starting at the bottom and working your way up to his shoulders.

You could see the tension physically leave his body as he relaxed into your touch and let out a muffled moan into the pillow.

The noise he made was music to your ears and inspired you to do anything you could to continue being the reason that he made them. As you moved your hands back down his sides, you leaned over and began peppering kisses along the scars on his left shoulder.

Your lips trailed upwards. When you got to the base of his ear you whispered, “How do you still manage to smell so good when you’ve been on a mission all day?” before biting his lobe between your teeth, earning a throaty growl from him that made arousal pool in your underwear.

He gracefully flipped over onto his back while managing to keep you seated on him; your pussy now seated directly over his crotch. Your skin caught on fire when you realized that he was as hard as you were wet.

He reached up, placing his hand behind your neck and pulling your face to his.

“This doesn’t feel like just a massage. I’ve never known a massage to make someone this wet," his voice was as sweet and thick as honey.

Your face flushed at the realization that you had soaked through your underwear, but you went with it.

“I guess that’s what happens when you’re massaging someone as beautiful as you," you ran your tongue across his lips and he didn’t waste another second in attaching his mouth to yours.

You didn’t think that you could ever experience a kiss that was better than the first that you shared together but you were so wrong.

This kiss. This kiss is how all kisses should be, you thought. In the comfort of your bedroom there was no holding back.

The second that you pulled away for air, his lips were on your neck, licking and biting and sucking and leaving what you were sure to be large bruises but you didn’t care, you would wear them proudly.

Your fingers tugged at his hair as he made his way from the sweet spot on your neck to the curve of your breasts.

He began to pull the silk fabric of your robe before pausing and looking up at you, his pupils blown with lust.

“Is this okay- can I?”

“Yes. Please, Bucky,” you eagerly consented. He instantly exposed your chest, soft lips latching to one nipple while he pinched the other between his fingers.

Your back involuntarily arched into his touch. Your eyes squeezed shut and you saw stars as a plethora of colors erupted from behind your lids.

He pulled away all too soon, but wasted no time in untying your robe and pushing it the rest of the way off of your body, leaving you in only your panties.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” his eyes raked over your body causing you to blush deeply.

“You’re a work of art.” He lowered his face to your stomach, trailing kisses from your bellybutton to the hem of your underwear, which he took between his teeth and tugged down your hips.

You had never felt so entirely comfortable while being so exposed to someone- the way that he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered made you feel braver than you ever had on any mission.

You didn’t take your eyes off of him as he kissed around your sex- everywhere except for the place you needed him most.

A whine escaped your lips and he looked up at you knowingly. Teasingly.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” his hot breath spread across your folds.

“Anything and everything you’ll give me,” you said with a breathy laugh.

He kissed your thigh before moving back to your core. His fingers laced through yours to pin them to your sides as he slowly trailed his tongue up your center for the first time, causing you to bit your lip in pleasure.

He repeated the motion several times before plunging his tongue in and out of you as your head fell back onto the pillow and you bucked your hips into his mouth.

He released your hands, moving his metal arm to hold your hips down as his flesh thumb ran circles over your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Taste so fucking sweet,” he praised as his teeth grazed your clit.

“Cum for me. I want to feel you cum on my tongue.” You needed no further encouragement, his words were enough to send you over the edge. You clenched his head between your thighs, moaning his name as you came undone around his tongue. You didn’t doubt as though you looked like you were having an exorcism with the way your body was heaving.

Bucky licked up all of your juices as though he was a starving man being fed for the first time in weeks.

As soon as you came down from the high of your orgasm, you wanted more.

You pulled him up to where you were laying, crashing your mouth to his, desperately wanting to taste yourself on him.

Your hands found the button of his jeans and you shoved them down with his boxers, never taking your lips off of his.

He started to line himself up with your entrance when he paused, cautiously meeting your eyes.

“Doll, it’s been a while for me, over 70 years actually, I probably won’t be too good-“

You broke him off with your lips in a tender kiss.

“You’re perfect,” you shushed him. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” Your hand cupped his cheek and you massaged his skin with your thumb.

He relaxed for half a second before panic broke across his face again.

“Shit- I don’t have- I need to get a condom-“

You stopped him by taking his length in your hand, stroking his tip against your folds. His eyes rolled back into his head at the sensation.

“I’m on the pill. Now for the love of all that is holy, Bucky, fuck me, please.”

“Modern medicine is a miracle.”

He gave you another soft kiss and held your gaze as he pushed in slowly. You gasped, biting down on his shoulder as you adjusted to his size.

An animalistic groan came from deep within his chest.

“So fucking tight and wet for me. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

He began to thrust languidly as your pussy stretched to take all of him.

Oh, it’s so good. Better than you could have imagined.

“You feel so fucking good, Bucky,” you praised him breathlessly. You moved your hips up to meet his to show him that you were ready for more.

It didn’t take long for him to set a beautiful yet brutal rhythm. He found your g-spot immediately and every thrust was blinding ecstasy.

The way that you fit around him was a dream. You had no doubt in your mind that he was made to fill you perfectly and you realized this is why people are so obsessed with sex, this is what the big deal is.

Every part of your body was alive and he knew it, reading every sign and responding flawlessly.

A familiar heat began to pool in your belly and you could feel your walls clench around him as you reached your climax, gasping his name over and over as you raked your nails down his back and grasped at his ass, pulling him closer into you.

The way that your body reacted to the pleasure that he gave you quickly sent him over the edge. He emptied himself inside you with a guttural moan of your name.

He stilled, but didn’t attempt to pull out of you, keeping his body pressed to yours as he kissed along your jawline as your breathing finally steadied and you both came back down to earth.

“I can’t believe this isn’t a dream,” he whispered into your neck, still regaining composure.

“Dream about this often?” you murmured into his hair, ghosting the tips of your fingers down his back.

“More than I care to admit,” you hummed in response, lifting his chin for his lips for meet yours.

“It never has to be just a dream again. Happy birthday, baby.”


	3. 77 Birthdays [3/3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the last part to this lil series. I hope you enjoyed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @ bucknasty-barnes!

one week later- Bucky’s “34th” birthday

You stared down at the navy blue fabric that clung to your frame, still unable to believe that Wanda had actually talked you into this.

“I feel ridiculous,” you pouted.

“You look fucking hot,” Wanda assured you.

You twirled in front of the full length mirror, trying to see what she saw. You had to admit that the tight, slightly undersized pin-up girl dress hugged you nicely, but you also felt like it just wasn’t you.

Of course it wasn’t you. This is what women wore in the 1940’s. You were used to wearing tactical gear and boots and flannels and occasionally a gown whenever Stark would throw an extravagant party that all of you were coerced into attending.

But you made the mistake of telling Wanda about your idea to help Bucky celebrate all of his missed birthdays, and you were now reaping the consequences.

“I just.. I don’t want him to see me in this and immediately be reminded of women he was with over 70 years ago, before his whole life got turned upside down. Does that make sense?” you spoke the words to Wanda, but you were really trying to rationalize with yourself.

“You blind, blind girl,” she “tsked” you.

“What?” You turned around from where you were facing the mirror.

“His life may have been turned upside down by Hydra, but you’ve turned it right back up. The way that he looks at you.. it is as though he is a blind man seeing the stars for the first time,” she shook her head at you.

“Trust me, sestra. Everyone sees it. Everyone except for you. Now do you want me to curl your hair, or not?”

You begrudgingly agreed, closing your eyes and trying not to overthink as you allowed her to frame the tight curls around your face.

“One last thing..” her voice snapped you out of your daydreams.

She dug in her purse for a moment before turning to you and handing you a small plastic tube.

“Lipstick isn’t really my thing,” you said handing it back to her.

“Oh, come on! It’ll so complete the look. At least try it on.”

You consented, but only on the condition that she would apply it for you. You were hopeless when it came to fashion and makeup, whereas Wanda was a genius.

You slipped on the black heels that you kept in the back of your closet for special occasions and looked in the mirror again at the final results.

Wanda clapped, making an excited, high-pitched squeal. You had to hand it to her, you did look pretty hot, even if it was a bit much.

Wanda left, having plans to marathon all of the Harry Potter movies with Vision, but not before she jokingly said that you and Bucky were welcome to join them after Bucky had finished having his fun with his birthday present.

You sat on your bed, anxiously picking at your cuticles as you waited for Bucky to return from his late afternoon run with Steve. You had told him you would have a surprise for him when he got back, and you could only hope that it wouldn’t disappoint.

Just as you were on the brink of chickening out and throwing on some leggings and a t-shirt, you heard your doorknob turn.

Bucky froze halfway through the doorway, eyes wide and locked on you from where you sat on the edge of the bed.

You waited for him to say something, but no words escaped from his mouth that hung agape.

“Wanda talked me into it,” you launched into an explanation, averting his stare. “No idea how she managed to find this outfit on such short notice, but that’s just Wanda. I told her it was silly-“

You were cut off by Bucky cupping his hands around your face, forcing you to look at him as he sat down on the bed next to you.

“Baby, you could wear a banana suit and I would think you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” All of your anxieties washed away at the sincerity of his words.

“But this?” His eyes flashed down to your apparel. “This makes me feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.” He trailed his thumb across your cheekbone and you couldn’t help but press your lips into his palm.

“I take it that you like it then?” you asked rhetorically. “The heels, the hair, the lipstick, it isn’t too much?” You added, a bit more serious.

“It’s perfect, baby doll. You’re perfect.” He pressed a brief kiss to your lips before looking you in the eyes.

“And I love the lipstick, but that isn’t going to stop me from smearing it across your pretty face.”

—-

three weeks later- Bucky’s “56th” birthday

Buck,

Since you’re reading this, it means that Vision has followed my instructions to leave this journal on your bed after I’ve left for my mission with Nat. I could have given this to you myself before leaving, but I knew you’d be bummed after saying goodbye and I hoped finding this would cheer you up.

Today is your “56th” birthday- but it isn’t just your 56th birthday. Today is also the one month anniversary of our first kiss on the Ferris wheel.

Maybe it is childish, to get so happy about having been with someone for a month. After all, it is just a few weeks.

But you’ve made them the best few weeks of my life.

I never would have imagined that it would take only 30 days to fall so in love, but with you it has been the easiest thing in the world.

You make everything about life so much easier. So much brighter.

I’m never happier than when I wake up to see you sleeping beside me, or when we are watching a movie and I glance over at you to find that you are already looking at me, or when I feel your hand lace through mine when we are in a busy, crowded place.

So I don’t care if it is childish. Happy one month of us, baby. I hope we can celebrate hundreds more.

I can’t wait to be in your arms again in 24-36 hours.

\- Y/N

Bucky stared down at the letter composed on the first page of the navy blue, leather bound journal that you had gifted him and admired your loopy, feminine handwriting.

He had read the words quite literally dozens of times over the course of the last day, but they still seemed too good to be true.

A whole month with you. And you wanted hundreds more.

Thirty hours since he had last seen you, and FRIDAY’s voice finally filled the room to inform him that you were home.

It had only been a day, but Bucky’s heart rate increased tenfold at the thought of seeing you.

At the same time that the thought of you could send butterflies erupting in his stomach, the sight of you could calm any storm in his mind.

This was reiterated when an automatic sense of peace and comfort spread throughout Bucky’s being as soon as you stepped into his room.

“Hi, baby,” you cooed at him from where he had stood from his seat on the bed.

“Goddamn, I missed you.” He took two long strides and had his arms wrapped around your midsection in a rib-crushingly tight embrace that lifted your feet from the floor before you could say anything.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood in each other’s arms. His grip never loosening from your waist, your arms resting around his shoulders, breathing in each other’s scents and basking in the familiar warmth that you had grown so accustomed to.

“I missed you too, Buck,” you spoke into his neck.

He broke the embrace, pulling you to lay with him on the bed. You were still in your tactical gear and boots, covered in day old sweat and in critical need of a shower, but you didn’t care. At that moment, all that you wanted was to lay on his chest.

“I hated sleeping without you,” he murmured, stroking his fingers through your hair.

You hummed in agreement, remembering how desperately you had wished for him to be with you in your shitty motel bed the night before.

“Doll?”

You titled your head to look up at him to see that he was staring at the ceiling.

“Hmm?”

“How crazy would it be to ask you to move in with me?”

You moved to prop yourself up on your elbow, smirking down at him.

“You mean how crazy would it be for you to ask me to move my stuff that’s across the hallway into your bedroom that I’ve been sleeping in most nights for the last month anyway?” You pulled his hand up to your mouth, pressing your lips to each knuckle.

“Not crazy at all.”

—-

March 10- Bucky’s 102nd birthday aka Bucky’s actual birthday

“It’s your birthday, Buck. Your real birthday, too. Why are you surprising me?” You allowed Bucky to guide you to wherever it was he had driven to.

You could tell that you were outdoors from the quaint chirping of birds and by the feeling of the wind blowing through your hair and grass tickling your ankles, but everything else was a mystery. Your eyes were covered by the same bandanna you had used to blind him several months ago on the way to Coney Island.

“You’ve been surprising me for the last three months doll, let me do something for you for once,” he pecked you on the cheek when he finally came to a stop, lifting the cloth from your face.

You took in the scene before you.

A large flannel quilt spread in the middle of an overgrown field, surrounded by lanterns that illuminated the space as the sun was beginning to set. On the blanket lay a bottle of blackberry wine and takeout from the Chinese restaurant that you and Bucky frequented after missions, along with a large vase of white roses, stalks of lavender and baby’s breath. All of your favorites.

“Oh, Bucky,” you whispered as you involuntarily walked towards the set up.

“It’s beautiful. You did all of this?” you asked as you turned back around to him.

What you saw then was more beautiful than any picnic could ever be.

Bucky, on one knee. Bucky, holding up a ring that shone brighter than all of the surrounding lanterns.

Your hands flew up to your mouth and tears filled your eyes before he had the chance to say a word.

“Baby, the past few months have been the best of my abnormally long life-“

“Yes,” you interrupted him. He smiled, but continued speaking.

“-I know we haven’t been together very long, but I’ve been alive long enough to know what I want-“

“Yes,” you interrupted again, now kneeling on the ground with him.

“-and that is you. For the rest of my life. I want you to be my wife.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” You took his head in your hands and peppered kisses all across his face.

“I think I know your answer, but will you marry me?”

“Can we have a bouncy house at our wedding?” You gently pushed him onto his back in the soft grass, crawling over him to straddle his stomach.

“We can have a dozen bouncy houses if you can convince Tony to fund them.”

“Then yes.” You smiled the answer into his kiss.

“Best birthday of my life.”


End file.
